Who is Lyra Tonks?
by akiqueen
Summary: Harry gets a Floo call from Andromeda: she's adopted a little girl, Lyra, but can't reveal Lyra's birth parents. It's clear her parents are Death Eaters, but who? Then, Draco wants to become reacquainted with his aunt and cousins, but why? And now, the Ministry is forcing Harry to work with Draco in order to solve a string of poisonings. How does this all relate? Eventual Drarry.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, here I am again with a new fic. I hope you're as excited as I am!**

**This is a post-DH, pre-epilogue fanfic, and will be as accurate as possible to the books. I've had this idea rolling around in my brain for a while now, and I'm excited to finally get it into words. Expect an update every two weeks (however, the more favorites, reviews, and follows I get, the faster you can expect an update! If I get at least ten of either, I'll update this by next Wednesday, 11/19).**

**This will be rated M for violent and sexual themes, but as not to spoil the plot, I won't reveal anything here. Send me a PM if you want more details about the nature of this fic.**

**Eventual Harry/Draco. **

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><p>The day started like any other for Augusta Ravins, the Ministry Official in charge of all magical birth records in Wizarding Britain. She had woken up at 6 AM, swallowed down a biscuit and coffee, and sat at her desk, monitoring the documents that swept past her with a flick of her wand. Despite her official title – Administrator of Magical Births – her job was quite simple. She was to keep track of all new witches and wizards being born, that the proper information regarding inheritance was shared with the goblins at Gringotts, that the right owls were trained in preparation for the child's invitation to Hogwarts, and that any Muggleborn families were notified of the existence of wizards and were helped with the child-raising process. That last one was new, instated just a few months ago, shortly after the war with Voldemort had passed, and it had met very little resistance, no doubt because of Harry Potter's support. In short, Augusta's job was to simply notify the right people without giving away too much vulnerable information – not that she could, not under her Oath of Silence.<p>

A flash of red broke her otherwise uninterrupted stream of papers, and she let them fall onto a neat stack on her table before grasping the red parchment. Red parchments were never very fun: a miscarriage, or a consequence of rape, or more recently in the last two years, children produced as a consequence of Dark Magic. There was a lot of fear that, although Voldemort had been defeated, the remaining Death Eaters (extricated like the Malfoy family or not) were plotting to raise a new Dark Lord. Augusta grew more and more curious as she continued to examine the parchment. Lyra Tonks, adopted by Andromeda Tonks, whose _actual_ surname was…well, it made Augusta raise an eyebrow in amusement, especially when she saw who the birth parents were and the circumstances of the birth: an illegal Dark Magic potion. As the father had not (yet) acknowledged the birth, his vaults wouldn't become accessible to her until he either recognized her as his heir or if he died before naming one. Augusta flicked the parchment with her wand, turning it white again, and levitated it to a filing cabinet which held the records of other children whose births were considered special circumstances. And only she would know this secret. Well, she and two of the three people who had been listed as performing an Unbreakable Vow: Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa Malfoy. The one who had performed the spell – Severus Snape – had passed away in the war.

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><p>"So let me get this straight," was the first thing Harry said once Andromeda's head disappeared from the Floo. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, trying very hard not to erupt in front of his two friends. "She just went and adopted a kid that she knew nothing about? Other than the fact that a Malfoy handed it over to her."<p>

"Harry, please calm down," Hermione said. "Andromeda's a grown woman, she can make her own choices. Besides, Narcissa is her sister, not just some random witch."

"Yeah, but saying that she's taken a dark wizard into her household –"

"Ron, that child is not a dark wizard!" Hermione admonished, effectively cutting off the red-head before he made the situation worse. She turned back to Harry, taking his hand. "What Andromeda and Narcissa did was for the best. Imagine the kind of life any child of dark wizards would have so recently after the war. Imagine that her parents are in Azkaban. Imagine the kind of treatment she would have received just because of who her parents were, both growing up and once she started Hogwarts. I'm sure it was a hard decision, just giving your child to someone with ideologies so vastly different than yours, but they had to do it. And Andromeda, as a former Black, was the best choice. I know it's hard to accept," Hermione said, "but think of this as saving Lyra from a life of pain. If you treated her like how you treat Teddy, you could really make a difference in her life."

"Yeah, turn one of them to our side," Ron added. "At least with Andromeda, we'll know she won't grow up using Unforgivables or believing in blood prejudice." Hermione glared at him, but otherwise said nothing.

"I guess you're right," Harry sulked, knowing that he couldn't do anything to change the situation. "What am I going to tell Ginny? She wasn't happy when I said I couldn't travel with her on her tour with the Holyhead Harpies because I had an obligation to Teddy. What will she say when I mention Lyra?"

"Just tell her it's practice for the future," Ron said, laughing, but Harry wasn't so sure. Their long-distance relationship was already causing enough tension between them as it was. And Merlin, they were so young. It was no wonder that Ginny didn't want to start thinking about children so soon after Hogwarts – just the suggestion to stay with him, to help with Teddy, had been enough to send her out of the country. Harry didn't mind so much – it wasn't like he had to be there constantly, but he wanted to be present, in a way that his parents never were for him. Ginny didn't seem to understand that, maybe because she had come from a large family and had never been denied that right.

"I guess I should write to Andromeda and let her know when I'll be visiting," Harry finally said, earning a smile from Hermione and a shrug from Ron.

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><p>"Thanks for coming, Harry," Andromeda said with a tired smile, taking Harry's winter coat and hanging it in a closet and then forcing a mug of hot cocoa in his hands. "This means a lot to me, that you are willing to accept Lyra into the family."<p>

_Family_, Harry thought, unsure of how he felt about the word in relation to somebody who he didn't know, who wasn't even related to him. Instantly he felt ashamed of the thought. _Hermione would tell me that she and Ron and the Weasleys are my family, even though we're not related by blood. And so are Andromeda and Teddy. And Lyra now_, Harry thought as Andromeda led him to the nursery. When they entered, Harry saw that it held an extra crib next to Teddy's. The splash of blue which he had become accustomed to seeing was now paired with a pale pink. Teddy was asleep, his hair currently a lime green, and Harry couldn't help but smile, but it was bittersweet. He could hardly believe that he'd be turning one in April, that almost a year had passed since Remus and Tonks were killed, since he and Ron decided to join the Aurors, since Ginny left for the Holyhead Harpies, since Hermione returned to complete her missed year at Hogwarts.

Harry turned to Lyra, who was quietly giggling at the snitch mobile above her head. She had a faint whisper of black hair and light blue eyes, almost colorless. Lyra didn't fuss when Andromeda picked her up and bottle fed her, and Harry wondered if, in comparison to Teddy's constant temper tantrums, Lyra would be a godsend.

"How old is she?" Harry asked, looking at the small baby in Andromeda's rocking hands.

"Just under a week," Andromeda said. "They couldn't risk keeping her longer than that after the birth."

"Don't tell me her birthday's on New Year's Day," Harry laughed. "'Congratulations for surviving your first New Year's without constant death threats! Here, have a baby!'" Andromeda just rolled her eyes and smiled.

"January 2nd," Andromeda clarified. Harry did the mental calculations – assuming that the mother (whoever she was) had a normal pregnancy period of nine months, she had become pregnant in April, when Voldemort was still at large. Perhaps she had even been at Malfoy Manor at the same time that Harry and the others were captured by the Snatchers. That would explain why Narcissa had been involved – she knew who this mysterious woman was, her situation, and, in her desperation, had contacted Andromeda.

"So you can't tell me who the mother is?" Harry asked.

"No. I have to keep everything related to Lyra a secret," Andromeda said, revealing her wrist, which was entwined with twisting, dull red lines. "Unbreakable Vow." Harry thought as much. It was the only way that Lyra's identity could be secured, without endangering both her and her birth parents. "Though I can tell you who performed it," Andromeda suggested. "When I was initially discussing this with Narcissa, I had to remind her that, naturally, people would be curious. That the ministry would get suspicious. That the Daily Prophet would ask around."

"That I, as Teddy's godfather, would be very present in his life?"

"That too," Andromeda agreed. Then she paused for a moment, considering, before saying, "She thought that letting you and everybody else know _who_ performed the spell could be the one 'advantageous' exception she could make."

"Advantageous?" Harry asked, genuinely interested now. "So, who was it?"

"Severus Snape," she replied, watching as Harry's eyes widened in surprise. Severus Snape, who was posthumously awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class, for his role as a member in the Order of the Phoenix and his role as spy within the Death Eaters, had been the one to perform the Unbreakable Vow. Suddenly, Harry could visualize this as an excerpt in the Daily Prophet: Snape's involvement as a spy, in addition with a carefully worded sob story, lent to the idea that Lyra's mother was simply a victim trying to protect her child from the clutches of the Dark Lord. In fact, Lyra's mother was never a supporter of Voldemort, otherwise why would she have trusted her child to a blood traitor? Have Rita Skeeter as the writer, and the story could become even grander: in fact, she never wanted to be pregnant in the first place. In fact, Lyra's birth was all part of a conspiracy to create a new Dark Lord but, instead of giving Lyra to the enemy, she had practically dropped the child in the care of one Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world.

Wondering if any of this was true, Harry watched as Andromeda carefully placed Lyra in her crib and covered her with a patented Molly Weasley blanket. Seeing her sleeping there peacefully, Harry knew – knew that it didn't matter if that was the truth, because he would have helped Lyra anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for everyone who's following this story! As before, the more follows/favs/reviews I get, the faster I'll update. Let's see if we can get to 15 - if so, I'll update in the next week. Otherwise, I'll update two weeks from now, on December 10.**

**To clear some things up, this chapter happens in September of 2000. I decided that all the Weasley children were born in the same year, as it was left pretty open-ended by J.K. Rowling / the HP Wiki, and I thought it would be cool if they'd all get to be in the same year at Hogwarts. (I'm doing so much research for this story, it's crazy...again, it's going to be as canon as possible, with exception to the Drarry. I can't resist the Drarry).**

**Thanks for reading and Happy Thanksgiving!**

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><p>Harry was definitely looking forward to the weekend. He and Ron had just completed their third and final year of training, and had been promoted to full-fledged Aurors. Tonight he had celebrated with Ron and the other members in the program and tomorrow the Weasleys were throwing a celebration. Mostly, Harry was excited about the idea of seeing Ginny in person for the first time in three years – she was officially on Holiday and eager to spend it with Harry.<p>

He'd also be seeing Andromeda, Teddy, and Lyra for the first time in what seemed like forever. The training regimen for Aurors had become more and more demanding. From the beginning, they only got weekends off – and Harry mainly used Saturday to recuperate and Sunday to visit Andromeda and the kids. This last leg, however, was even worse because, for their final exam, Harry, Ron, and the others had to survive in the wild for a straight month, where they'd been forced to live off the land and defend themselves from creatures and attackers. He felt extremely guilty for not being able to visit and help Andromeda, but she always reassured him that he was doing more than enough with his Sunday visits, where he usually cooked two days worth of meals and played with the kids or took them out into Muggle London. She was happy to have a day to relax. Besides, she had Molly Weasley to mother hen the children – the Burrow was practically a second home, she had assured him. Still, he'd feel a lot better once he saw them tomorrow.

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><p>In the morning, Harry took a shower, didn't bother to tame his hair or eat breakfast (he knew there'd be plenty waiting for him at the Weasleys'), and threw on some Muggle clothes – a dark blue turtleneck and some jeans – before Apparating to the Burrow. Unsurprisingly, the door immediately burst open, with a smiling Molly Weasley failing to restrain her daughter from pushing past her and jumping into Harry's arms. "Harry!" Ginny exclaimed as she kissed him, then pulled back as she took a good look at him. "I haven't seen you in forever," she said. "I like the new glasses."<p>

"I broke my old ones when we had our final exam. Even a _Reparo_ couldn't fix them," Harry explained. "You look good too. I like the haircut." It was a pixie cut, and it looked good with her facial features; her eyes looked bigger, brighter than before.

"It's all the rage among female Quidditch players," she said. Harry felt his heart sink – he had thought…well, he had thought that when Ginny had mentioned having a Holiday, that it'd be a permanent one.

"So you're thinking of playing with the Holyhead Harpies for another year?" Harry asked, trying to seem casual.

"Yeah, but our next couple of seasons will be in London, so at least I'll be home," she said, giving him an excited smile. "So our plans don't have to change, Harry. I still want to live with you." Harry was still feeling a little uncertain, but before he could continue, Molly rushed out and started pushing them inside.

"Now get in, get in, breakfast's getting cold and you two can catch up later," she said, and Harry didn't get a chance to say another word to his girlfriend as he suddenly found himself in a sea of Weasleys, all trying to shake his hand and hug him. Finally he squirmed his way to Ron and Hermione, who were ecstatic to see him. However, as Ron hugged him close, he made sure to lower his voice and whispered in Harry's ear, "After breakfast." before pulling away from him. So he was really going to do it – propose to Hermione, like he'd been talking about during the trial. He had made a big speech (several big speeches in fact) about how he would finally ask Hermione to marry him if he got out of it alive. He had even asked Harry to be his best man.

"Come on to the kitchen, then," Hermione said, ushering them forward.

"We're eating inside?" Harry asked, amused. "I didn't think we could fit the whole Weasley clan in the kitchen."

"I received, uh, _special permission_ to fiddle with Wizarding Space, just for the day," Hermione said, and the tone of her voice suggested that she had done the magic herself and, if everyone kept quiet about it, the Ministry would never have to know. It was one of the many things that had changed about Hermione because of their year of trying to find and destroy the Horcruxes.

They walked into the kitchen which indeed had been expanded by a couple of meters to include the entire Weasley Clan, minus Charlie who was busy with his job in Romania. There was Arthur and Molly, of course, and Bill and Fleur, with their daughter Victoire (born May 2, 2000). There was Percy and his wife Audrey sitting with their daughter Molly (born July 12, 2000). George and his wife Angelina were sitting on either side of their son, Fred (born August 8, 2000). Finally, Andromeda sat at the end of the table between Teddy and Lyra, who were both bouncing excitedly when they spotted Harry. Teddy was already crawling on top of Harry's knee when he sat down and Lyra soon followed, with Teddy talking away as Molly served breakfast. Lyra was shyly answering Harry's questions with hesitant yeses and nos (she had just begun to talk, after all), while Teddy already had quite the mouth on him, retelling Harry a tale about a griffin but forgetting which part he was on and inevitably repeating the same thing three times by the time Harry finally got him to quiet down and eat.

Quite occupied, Harry didn't have time to talk to Ginny, who was sitting beside him, but whenever he glanced at her she would give him a half-smile and quickly turn back to her conversation with Hermione and Ron, who were sitting across from them. He ruffled Teddy's red hair (which Harry was sure he had consciously changed to mimic the Weasleys' hair) and Lyra's black hair, and while Teddy remained preoccupied with eating, Lyra looked up and smiled at Harry with her blue eyes twinkling in the morning light. Despite their misgivings, Lyra was truly a wonderful little girl. She didn't fuss and she and Teddy got along. Plus, with the sudden addition of three little ones, there would soon be more playmates for her and Teddy, and they'd all be attending Hogwarts just a year apart from each other. Heck, maybe they'd all be sorted into Gryffindor. _Wouldn't that be funny?_ Harry thought, _If the daughter of a Death Eater was sorted into Gryffindor…_

His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden clinking of glass, and his eyes shot up to Ron, who was fiercely gripping a spoon with one trembling hand and clutching at his water with the other. Everyone silently looked at him, confused, and a blush crept up his face before he stammered out, "I just…I just wanted to say thank you, for doing this for me and Harry. We wouldn't have been able to do this without the support of our family. And yes, Harry, we do consider you family." Everyone laughed, and Ron seemed to calm down a little. He turned to Hermione.

"Hermione, I especially wouldn't have been able to do this without you. I also consider you to be part of our family. But I was wondering if you'd agree to become an official, permanent member," he finished, getting down on one knee and pulling out a ring. Hermione burst into tears and her agreement was drowned out by a sudden, clamorous cheer from every member of the household. Teddy clapped too but looked up at Harry, confused.

"What happened, Uncle Harry?" he asked.

"Well, Uncle Ron asked Aunt Hermione to marry him. That means that they love each other and want to live together and maybe have kids like your other aunts and uncles." Teddy seemed to understand and nodded solemnly before suddenly brightening up with an idea.

"You should get married, Uncle Harry!" he exclaimed, "And have kids too!" This earned another laugh from around the table as everyone continued eating.

"Yeah, Harry, you should get married," Ginny suddenly whispered into his ear, earning a blush from Harry.

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><p>Harry and Ginny were lying side by side on her bed after breakfast. They were holding hands, staring at the ceiling, which Harry had charmed to show the morning sky, riddled with clouds. "Tomorrow, Harry," she said, "Tomorrow we start our lives together."<p>

"Yeah," Harry said, but something was still bugging him. "About what Teddy said…"

"About getting married, Harry? I was just teasing you. We don't have to do anything right away, we haven't even lived together like Hermione and Ron," she said reassuringly. Harry blushed all over again.

"It…wasn't that, actually. I was thinking about what he said about…"

"Kids?" Ginny asked. "Well, eventually. Maybe in a few years, after we get married."

"No, I mean about Teddy," Harry replied. Ginny tensed beside him. _Oh-oh_, he thought. "I know that when I first asked you, it seemed too soon. But it would mean the world to me if we included him in our lives now. Now that I'll have regular work hours and you're in the country—"

"So what, adopt him?" Ginny asked, wrenching her hand away in panic.

"What? No, I mean, I haven't thought of it like that…just, you know, visiting him and Lyra more often than on the weekends. It's just that I think—"

"Lyra?" Ginny asked, and the tone of her voice – was it disgust? Indignation? – stopped Harry from even trying to continue. He pushed down the anger and tried to look at it from Ginny's point of view. She had just arrived in England for the first time in three years. She hadn't had the chance to speak with Andromeda at length or even meet Lyra. Of course she'd have misgivings about the girl. And about visiting Andromeda and the kids…he was sure he'd work it out with her once she warmed up to them.

"Let's not think about kids now," Harry said, which seemed to be the trick – Ginny turned back to him and seemed willing to listen. "Tomorrow, we can move back into Grimmauld Place and—"

"You aren't honestly thinking of living there?" Ginny asked, her neck beginning to flush red with anger. Harry could feel an argument coming up, so he cast a silencing charm as to not alert the household.

"Gin, it's honestly a lot more pleasant than you remember it being," Harry tried to placate. "And it's important to me that we live in the house Sirius left to me."

"I would rather much get an apartment together, Harry. It's really…hard for me to be there."

"I know, I understand. But…it's directly linked with the floo at Andromeda's, and it's where I take the kids sometimes on weekends."

"What?!" Ginny exclaimed, and Harry didn't know what she was more shocked about – that he allowed kids to live in such a previously…ugly place, or that he let them in at all.

"Well, I just thought that they should know about the house. I'll most likely be leaving it to Teddy when he gets older—"

"Don't!" Ginny said, jumping out of the bed and crossing her arms in anger. "Don't!" she seethed. "How could you dare suggest that you'd let_Teddy_ inherit that…_place_?!"

Harry stood rooted in the spot, his brain warring between blowing up and thinking about this calmly. He understood where Ginny was coming from, really, but if only she could give it a chance, he knew that she'd learn to appreciate the conveniences, the safety that Grimmauld Place provided. He was about to suggest as much when Ginny added, "You'd allow Teddy, over your own children, to inherit Grimmauld Place?"

Harry's heart stopped for a millisecond as he stared at Ginny, incredulous. He felt his anger bubble over. "How_dare _you. Just a second ago, you were saying that you didn't want anything to do with Grimmauld Place. And now you're questioning who I leave it to? Teddy has more of a right – _infinitely_ more than I or any children that _we_ have – to inherit this house."

Ginny had the decency to look abashed – but that flare of anger remained in her eyes.

Not wanting to deal with her, Harry left her bedroom, ignored everyone's calls of concern, went outside, and Apparated home.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow you guys are awesome! I got so many follows and reviews, that here's the next chapter, early as promised! I wanted to get it out sooner, but had some family/school obligations to take care of (which is why I'm updating on a biweekly basis to begin with). **

**Anyway, next chapter will finally have some Draco in it! Hope you guys don't mind Ginny, but don't worry she won't be around for much longer. **

**Please remember to review, follow or fav the story! If we get to 25 of any combination of those, I'll update sooner (by next week at the latest). Otherwise, I'll post another chapter two weeks from today, on Dec 17th.**

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><p>There was the usual period of being reprimanded by Hermione, getting smashed with Ron, refusing to apologize to Ginny until she apologized first, and getting Molly to apologize on his behalf once Hermione threatened to confiscate all the booze.<p>

Once actual apologies were spoken, Harry and Ginny were back on speaking terms, but things were still rocky between the two. Both were adamant in their position in the argument: Ginny was reluctant to move in as much as Harry was to move out. Hermione and Ron refused to choose sides and stayed away as far as they could – which meant no communication outside of work and no going out until the matter was settled.

Which meant a lot of pent up frustration that Harry needed to vent.

And so, Harry was spending a lot of time over at Andromeda's. Although she found the whole fight to be a little ridiculous, she knew that she, as the only non-Weasley in Harry's life, was the only one who could support Harry. Every afternoon they shared lunch together and every evening Harry came over for a cup of tea and would play with the kids. Although lunch was the same repeated affair – Harry and Andromeda going to the same café, Andromeda nodding her head as Harry grit his teeth and pulled his hair – he left that anger and frustration behind when he was in front of the kids. That much, she could appreciate.

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><p>A week and a half after the argument found the two sitting down for tea while Teddy and Lyra were coloring. Teddy was helping Lyra with holding the crayon, but neither had the fine motor skills to draw within the lines, so the kneazles on the coloring page looked more like porcupines.<p>

"So are you coming over this weekend?" Harry asked.

"I have an appointment this weekend," Andromeda answered. "And I already arranged everything with the kids. So you don't worry this weekend. Take care of yourself." Harry felt both relieved and crestfallen; he didn't have to take on the responsibility of looking after two toddlers, but he knew he'd spend the whole day stressing about Ginny.

"I take it they'll stay with Molly then?" Harry asked, although he knew the answer was yes. Where else did the kids go when he and Andromeda had lunch or when he wasn't available to look after them? The thought frustrated him. Normally he'd love the thought of Teddy and Lyra staying at the Burrow, but with the way things were going between him and Ginny, it was like he couldn't escape them.

"Actually, no," Andromeda said, startling Harry. So Molly wasn't taking care of them? Then maybe one of Ron's brothers? Perhaps Bill, or even Percy or George, had offered? And then the air around them compressed and he realized that Andromeda had cast a wandless silencing charm, so that the two could speak freely without the children hearing. That, more than anything else, unnerved Harry. Whoever it was, she knew he wouldn't like it. She was expecting an outburst.

"No?" Harry asked, trying to remain calm, but feeling his stomach twist nervously.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about this," Andromeda began. "As you know, you were away for a month for your final exam. So I had to find someone to look after the kids. Normally, I'd have asked Molly, but…"

"But?"

"One of Teddy's relatives contacted me, saying they were interested in reestablishing a relationship between our families. I thought I'd give it a shot, and it worked out, so they're my go-to babysitter when you're not available," Andromeda revealed.

Harry was stunned. The only relatives of Teddy's that he could think of were the Malfoys, but why would they be interested in "reestablishing a relationship" to a blood traitor like Andromeda or to the son of a werewolf? But when he caught Andromeda staring at Teddy and Lyra, Harry remembered: Narcissa Malfoy was the one who had asked her sister to look after Lyra. Perhaps it wasn't about "reestablishing a relationship" at all. His surprise turned into anger.

"Narcissa Malfoy wants to keep tabs on Lyra, doesn't she?" he asked harshly, but was surprised again when Andromeda blinked in surprise.

"Narcissa? No, not her. Although that would be nice," she said. "No, it's Draco. And he seemed genuinely interested with helping his cousins."

Harry was floored. Draco Malfoy? The man he hadn't seen since he had helped pardon both him and his mother after the war? He knew he was still angry, and therefore mistrustful of the former Slytherin, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the Malfoys were invested in something more than the well being of their family.

"I don't like this," Harry said. "I want to see him for myself," he added assertively, but Andromeda shook her head.

"This was my decision Harry, and like I already said, I truly believe he's interested in helping. I won't let your anger get in the way of Teddy's right to a family. You, of all people, should understand that." Harry, although still angry, grudgingly agreed. But that didn't mean that he would trust Malfoy's intentions, regardless of Andromeda's trust in him.

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><p>There were two things that Harry had stopped doing after the war: following <em>The Daily Prophet<em> and keeping up to date with news about his former rival. But that following morning, Harry did all he could to learn as much as possible about Draco Malfoy. He was now a potions master – _a pretty advanced one, renown in his field, according to these articles_, Harry thought while perusing his findings at his desk – and also a supplier for St. Mungo's and other hospitals. The picture that he had found, taken about a month ago, showed a smiling Malfoy under an article about some sort of donation he had made to a children's hospital. He looked…well. _Not dilapidated like I thought he would after the war_, he thought. Malfoy looked healthy and fit, and had grown out his hair, an echo to his father's hairstyle. _Popular with the ladies, if _Witch Weekly_ can be considered a valid source_, Harry thought, amused, looking at the clipping where someone had taken the time (a lot of time) to draw a semi-realistic sketch of Draco in a compromising position with the quote "Sexiest Potions Master in Wizarding London!" above him.

Of course, the bastard would be basking in all the attention. That's what he had always strove for in school, wasn't it? So if he had what he wanted, what was this whole thing about visiting Teddy and Lyra? _Maybe somebody had called him out for it, and put his reputation at risk_, Harry thought, amused, _and babysitting for Andromeda is his saving grace_. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

Whatever the truth was, Harry would never find out until he met the man and talked to him face to face. And he wouldn't be able to do that until he proved to Andromeda that he was a mature and responsible adult. Or, in Hermione's words, he had to "grow up" and talk to Ginny.

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><p>Ron would skin Harry alive if he knew that the biggest factor in working things out with Ginny had been Draco Malfoy. But what Ron didn't know wouldn't kill him. After calmly talking though it, they finally came to a compromise. Ginny would give Grimmauld Place a trial run, and if it didn't work out, they would rent an apartment together.<p>

About three weeks after the initial fight, Ginny Flooed in with a handful of suitcases, and was pleasantly surprised to see the transformed Grimmauld Place. No longer was it bleak and run down, but bright and cozy. The family portraits (namely one Walburga Black) had finally been moved to another part of the house and Kreacher was ready with a plate of biscuits and warm tea. "See, it's not as bad as I told you," Harry said, pleased with Ginny's reaction.

"I have to admit, this is an improvement," she said. "So, where's our room?" she asked with a wiggling eyebrow. Harry laughed and showed her upstairs. The room he showed her was Gryffindor colors, small and cozy.

"I've been staying in Sirius's old bedroom," Harry said. "I know it's small, but when I'm here…I feel closer to him." He turned to Ginny, who was pale, and took her hand. "What's wrong?" he asked, squeezing her hand.

"Nothing. It's just…for you, I'll try."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow you guys are so awesome! Thanks for all the follows and favs and for reaching the goal of 25! As promised, here's the chapter, early as promised!**

**I actually had this amazing inspiration for the story the other day, so it's gonna be awesome.**

**Oh, I did play around with the Auror timeline, so this is one thing that's not accurate to the books. Apparently Ron just became Head Auror and retired in 2000, whereas in my fic they have their training regimen and Ron retires later. So I hope you don't mind the tweaking, as it's very minor.**

**Anyway, same deal like always, if we get to a combination of 30 favs/follows/reviews, I'll update by next Wednesday (12/17). If not, I'll update two weeks from now, on 12/26. **

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><p>Although it was three years after Voldemort's defeat, many Death Eaters and other Dark Arts supporters were still at large. Muggleborns and halfbloods were still their predominant targets, but many "reformed" pureblood families – those who had defected or who had renounced the Dark Arts after the war – were at risk as well. A week ago, the poisoning of a wizard by the name of Derik Hans had occurred at the Zabini household, a day after <em>The Daily Prophet<em> had reported about a donation they had made to an organization that helped magical creatures.

The Greengrass's were throwing a charity gala for children that had been orphaned after the war, and having heard the news, asked the Aurors for protection, and who better to place undercover than two of Daphne Greengrass's former classmates? And so, Harry found himself in fancy dress robes and drinking wine at the Greengrass's charity gala with a grumpy Ron. Ron had to postpone his retirement plans in order to work on the case, and he wasn't happy about the overtime hours either. He was dressed in his brother's hand-me-down robes (luckily they were an improvement from the ones he wore to the Yule Ball), and he was scratching at his cuffs like crazy and muttering something about how he was convinced that the ministry had only cleared the Greengrass name because of the large sum of money they donated each year.

Ron went to "survey" the buffet table, leaving Harry alone for the moment to take in his surroundings. They were in a large ballroom decorated with fresh flowers. Wizards and witches chatted, dressed in their most exquisite dress robes. But he wasn't just looking at the people. Harry made mental notes of all the nooks and crannies, all the entrances and exits, and already had several plans for how to diffuse any sticky situations when his thought process was suddenly interrupted by a group of giggling witches practically dragging him onto the dance floor.

While he was awkwardly trying to decline the offer, he spotted Astoria animatedly chatting with Draco Malfoy. The blond was sipping a glass of champagne, and nodding in response, but didn't seem engaged in the conversation. Astoria kept trying to hold his hand and get his attention, but his eyes kept looking at something in the distance. In fact…it almost seemed like he was looking at him.

Harry didn't have time to ruminate on that because a particularly stubborn girl, a Jane Tilton, asked him to dance and although he wanted to decline (and run away as fast as he could), the look in her eye told him that she'd cry (or hex his balls off, he wasn't quite sure which) if he didn't. So of course he awkwardly accepted and led her in a stilting slow dance where he tried to keep her as far away from his body as possible and avoiding her love struck gaze while also being polite. Of course dancing with Jane had been a bad decision because as soon as the song ended, all her friends wanted a turn too, and he was getting nervous that he'd miss an attack, or worse, they were supposed to distract him while an attack happened, but before he knew it, a strong arm wrapped around his shoulder and he was directed out of the throng of witches and to the sanctuary of the open bar. A glass of wine was shoved into his hand and he took a grateful sip as the person beside him laughed.

"How are you supposed to defend the Greengrasses if you can't even defend yourself from some fangirls, Potter?" Harry turned around, surprised to see the amused expression of one Draco Malfoy.

It certainly wasn't how he'd imagined his first encounter with Malfoy. He thought he'd ambush him at Andormeda's, question him at wand-point, and threaten to charm his hair purple if he did anything to hurt his loved ones. It was embarrassing, to say the least. And now that he thought about it…a little bit discomforting, that Malfoy knew why he was here.

"Astoria told you?" Harry asked, suddenly suspicious. Maybe Malfoy was involved in the attacks?

"No, just an easy deduction. Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, does not socialize," Malfoy said with a raised eyebrow. "Especially with women, since I presume you're still dating the Weaselette." Harry just stared, feeling a combination of utter surprise and anger building up in him. Before he could tell Malfoy off, the blonde continued, "Ergo, it must be Auror business. What with the poisoning at Zabini's last week, it's only logical." Harry blinked, impressed with the blonde's conclusion. But just as he was starting to reconsider the man beside him, Malfoy smirked and added, "Besides, there's no way in hell Daphne and Astoria willingly invited a _Weasley_ to the party."

"Fuckin' hell, Malfoy!" Harry exploded silently. "Andromeda said you changed, but I can see that that's not the case at all. You're still the same arse you were in school!"

Just as Harry was about to punch the living daylights out of the blonde, a loud scream shook the room. Harry threw Malfoy a scathing look before he jumped up and ran to the buffet table, where a flustered Ron was administering a couple of first aid spells to a passed out witch – the same one that Harry had danced with before. She was pale and her mouth was frothing. A hand pushed him aside and, to his surprise, Malfoy approached the fallen girl, casting a whirlwind of spells and, weirdly, holding a glass of wine in his other hand. He guided the glass to her mouth, and as soon as she swallowed, her complexion brightened. Harry's brain made the connection: he looked between the girl and the buffet table and knew she had been poisoned somehow. He cast a Patronus and called for help, and in less than a millisecond, a team of Aurors and healers Apparated in.

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><p>It was hours before the chaos had been reigned in. After the house had been secured and everyone administered an antidote, the girl who had fallen unconscious had to be transported to St. Mungo's because, although her condition hadn't worsened, it hadn't improved either. Her friends' statements all agreed with each other: they were eating at the buffet, and Jane had been boasting about having danced with Harry Potter, when all of the sudden she had collapsed.<p>

Harry had just left a meeting with the head of the Auror department, where he had learned that Malfoy had been specifically asked to keep an eye out at the party. He had helped with creating an antidote for the wizard who had been attacked at the Zabini's, and they thought it might happen again at the Greengrass's…and they were right. However, Derik Hans had had made a full recovery after ingesting the antidote, while Jane was still comatose…which meant that the poison had obviously been modified. And the larger question was how exactly the poison worked. If it had been in the food, then everyone should have had the same, immediate symptoms as Jane. So why was she the only one at St. Mungo's?

The poison was more complex than they thought at first, which meant…well, working with Malfoy more than he wanted to. The Ministry feared that the poisonings would continue, and they wanted an expert potions master on the case. Since Ron was planning on retiring from the Aurors in order to help out his brother at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Harry needed a new partner. Which could only mean one thing: rather than assigning another Auror, one Draco Malfoy was supposed to be his new partner.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Wow you guys! I got so many more reviews/favs/follows than I was expecting! You are awesome! As a present from me to you, I will be posting a chapter a whole week early, by Dec 26th, no strings attached! Consider it a thank you!**

**I hope you like the chapter!**

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><p>"So how was the play date with Malfoy?" Ginny teased Harry as he Flooed into their shared apartment. Ginny had given Grimmauld Place a trial run, but after a couple of weeks, stated that she'd feel more comfortable in a different space. Though reluctant to leave, they had eventually reached a compromise: they'd live here during the week and Harry would stay in Grimmauld Place during the weekends so he could more easily visit Andromeda and the kids.<p>

"I'm really not in the mood, Gin," Harry replied grumpily as he plopped on the couch and sighed heavily, brushing a hand through his messy hair.

"That bad?" she asked, handing him a cup of tea and a sandwich, which he didn't have the stomach for, but ate anyway. "To be honest, I don't see why they asked Malfoy to help in the first place. There are many Potions Masters that could have taken on the job."

"Don't you think they've tried, Gin? The first time around, with the Zabini poisoning, every Potions Master in _Europe _was asked to help. And apparently only Malfoy was able to create an antidote. I have no choice but to work with him," Harry said sullenly, thinking back to the last couple of uncomfortable and awkward weeks with Malfoy. He and Malfoy had been moved into a shared office, where he had to tolerate Malfoy's incessant jibes and criticism.

"Why don't they assign him a different partner then? Why you, when they know you were enemies?"

"That's exactly why it has to be me, Gin," Harry said. "There's no one else who's willing to work with him – at least not anyone without homicide on their agendas," Harry added, and despite his joking tone, he knew it was true. Whatever _The Daily Prophet _reported about his 'reformed' status, there were still people in the department who didn't trust – and who would never trust – a former Death Eater. Since Harry had talked on the Malfoys' behalf at their trial, and still had the reputation of the "Golden Boy," there was really nobody better for the position. But judging from Ginny's expression, he could try to explain this twenty times and she'd still be stubborn about it. Ginny asked him again what had happened, but he just waved her off, thanked her for the food, and went to take a shower.

As he was standing in the warm stream of water, he thought about his day. It had started like any other for the last couple of weeks he and Malfoy were working on the case. Malfoy was cooped up in his miniature potions lab, working on deciphering what had been changed to the poison, while Harry had continued his interviews and inspections of various pensieve memories of the two events.

The two events were eerily similar. Both had occurred in "reformed" Death Eater households, both families had invited basically the same guests, and both of the poisonings had occurred after the victims had ingested something at the party. The food, however, had been prepared by the families' house elves, so either the perpetrator was someone they trusted or he or she had gotten to the food when they weren't looking, or had used a memory charm on the elves. Either way, the house elves didn't have any recollection of the events and just suggesting that they had let a criminal into the house sent them all into a self-punishment spree which had taken all of Harry's efforts to stop and which would no doubt earn him a scolding from Hermione.

After dealing with that mess, he had arrived for his usual dinner with Andromeda, only to receive another punch in the gut: she had invited Malfoy over as well (without bothering to tell him, of course), and Lyra and Teddy were there, so as much as Harry wanted to explode in anger, he had to sit and sip tea politely as they all made small talk. The only moment of respite were the two minutes where Harry excused himself to go to the bathroom but had actually sent a Patronus to Ginny, explaining the situation.

And the thing that frustrated him the most was that Malfoy was perfectly in line. All the right words in all the right places, little smiles and nods at Andromeda's attempts to learn more about him and the case, and worse, Teddy and Lyra adored him. Teddy especially seemed to love the idea that he had a cousin, snuggling close up to Malfoy and reading him a story (not like Teddy knew how to read yet, but he made up exposition for the pictures anyway), and was especially excited when they got to the part about Quidditch because he wanted "Cousin Draco" to see the miniature Snitch fly across the page.

Of course, Malfoy then promised to teach him how to fly, which led to Teddy asking him all sorts of questions. And what annoyed him the most wasn't that Malfoy greatly exaggerated his own prowess, but that Teddy had unconsciously changed his hair to blonde in the middle of their conversation. It shouldn't have hurt him as much as it did, but Harry couldn't help but feel like he was being shafted in favor of somebody whose intentions probably weren't the purest. Andromeda couldn't see past that, and his suspicions only grew as the evening continued.

They had offered to help get the kids to bed, and Malfoy was paying almost too much attention to Lyra…so much so, that Harry's original suspicions about him keeping tabs on Lyra were reignited. Just the way that his gaze lingered on her, the way that he spent more than necessary in tucking her into her sheets...it was almost as if he didn't want to leave her side. As if he was memorizing every facet of her, so that he could report back what he had seen to...well, whoever wanted to know.

And then, when he was about to leave, Malfoy said something really unexpected.

"You know, Potter, I thought you needed some teasing. At the party," he said. _Is he apologizing for the way he acted at the Greengrass's? _Harry thought incredulously. _If so, this is a backwards way of doing it_. "I have to accept that you're part of the package deal, and that I should respect your Gryffindor sensibilities, etc., etc.," he added. "So I'll give you another chance at being friends." And then he Flooed away, leaving Harry shocked and angry.

And he had still been angry when he had Flooed to his apartment, but now that he had a moment to reflect, he thought back to the party, to the weeks of teasing, and realized that none of Malfoy's insults held any malice. And if Malfoy wasn't _actively _trying to make fun of him…_That little fucker was trying to be amusing, and didn't realize he said something wrong until now_, Harry thought, feeling his anger melt away. Is was slowly being replaced with…what, confusion? _Maybe that's how Slytherins make friends, by insulting one another. Why am I not surprised? But what does that mean, that he wants to be friends with me? _

As Harry stepped out and dressed, he thought about Malfoy's words. He knew that the blonde was up to something, and he didn't trust him. But he knew that he needed to find out what was going on before somebody was hurt. Although Lyra and Teddy weren't related to him by blood, they were still family, and Harry had an obligation to protect them.

What better way to find out about Malfoy's motives than to play along with Andromeda's wishes of getting to know him better? Gryffindor sensibilities be damned, he was going to be Slytherin about this situation.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Here's the newest chapter, a little bit later than I had anticipated, but I was more busy than I thought I'd be what with the holidays and all. **

**Speaking of holidays, I hope you guys had an awesome holiday yourselves, and once again, this is a thank you for all the favs/follows/reviews that I've gotten in such a short time period.**

**Anyway, as always, the more favs/follows/reviews I get, the faster I will update! Let's see if we can reach a total of 55! If we do, I'll update by 01/03/15, if not, you can expect a new chapter two weeks from now on 01/10!**

**Thanks and I hope you'll enjoy the chapter! I feel really good about this one :)**

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><p>To an outsider, or perhaps in the eyes of one of their former classmates, the situation that Harry found himself in would have been inconceivable. After a couple of months of intense investigations, neither he nor Malfoy were any closer to solving the mystery behind the poisonings. Ever since news got out about what had happened at the Greengrass's, wizards were becoming more cautious. <em>The Daily Prophet<em>, which used to be chock full of reports on who was wearing what and who had donated more, was grabbing at anything that could be considered news (something about a kneazle getting stuck in a whomping willow tree), which also meant that Harry was (again) being solicited as The Boy Who Lived (Twice) for news about his professional and love life. There was no secret that he was working with Draco Malfoy, and Rita Skeeter was certainly having a field day writing all sorts of _suspicions_ of what their "true" relationship was.

It got worse when he and Malfoy started going out together in public (with Teddy and Lyra of course). There'd be the occasional trip to the park or a museum, and despite heavy glamours, they were still recognized. If Harry wasn't so anal about keeping tabs on Malfoy, maybe he wouldn't have to be worrying about the weekly updates on their "blossoming romance." In wasn't his fault entirely fault, though. He begged and pleaded with Ginny to come over on the weekends, but she refused to budge on the account that Malfoy was (undoubtedly) the same snarky bastard that had terrorized her family for years.

Though Harry doubted if that was the real reason. There were plenty of occasions where he had the opportunity to take care of the kids on his own, and Ginny had refused to come with him on those occasions as well. She maintained that she was busy with Quidditch training (even though she had promised that she wouldn't be working so soon since moving in together) but he was beginning to suspect that she was losing interest in maintaining their relationship. The more his job consumed him, the more that he had to work overtime or spend the weekend at Grimmauld Place, the more she had to go to "practice." Not that he could blame her; they couldn't really experience "living together" when they were both gone most of the time.

She also got really angry about the Skeeter articles, even though both he and everyone else with a brain knew the articles were total bollocks. Ginny pleaded with him numerous times to cancel his subscription (he stopped his subscription a long time ago actually, but owls still brought him 'free' copies) and to put a stop to publication of the articles. Short of suing for libel, there wasn't much that he could do about them – not that he really cared. All that mattered was that his friends and family knew that it wasn't true. And besides, he wasn't bothered by Rita Skeeter as much as by the swarms of fan mail he received from a new male demographic. With the emphasis on the _graphic_.

But that wasn't the inconceivable situation that Harry found himself in, no. Currently, he was sitting in the Minister's office, surrounded by the minister himself, Head Auror Linda Garret, Draco Malfoy, and an…unexpected guest, Severus Snape. Or, to put it more accurately, Snape's portrait. Malfoy had said something about asking his mentor's advice about the situation, but Harry didn't think he'd meant that Malfoy'd be talking to a portrait.

Harry had made his peace with Snape long ago, and hadn't let his portrait rest until the man knew just how much Harry appreciated and respected him. So perhaps Snape's cordial "Good evening, Mr. Potter," is what surprised Malfoy enough to look up at him with a questioning look.

"Good evening, professor," Harry replied, sitting across from Linda Garret and Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Good evening, everybody." They all nodded and while Harry was settling in his seat, a cup of tea floated in front of him with a plate of biscuits.

"As you already know, there has been little headway in figuring out who the attacker was, their motives, and the specifics of the poison in question," Head Auror Garret stated, turning to the minister. She was an older witch, with grizzled grey hair neatly tied in a bun. Despite her age, she was one of the fiercest people Harry knew. "Mister Potter, can you tell the minister more?" she urged.

"Er, right," Harry said, coughing to clear his throat. "Despite questioning everyone who attended the parties in question, I have found no clues as to who the perpetrator may be. Either an illegal memory spell had been used, or the source of the poison came from an outside source."

"What do you mean by that?" Kingsley asked.

"That the food in question, or the ingredients used in the food, already had the poison in them. But even questioning every food supplier in the area brought us no closer to finding the answer."

"Then why did it only affect specific people? If it had been in all of the ingredients, then shouldn't it stand to say that more people should be in St. Mungo's at the moment?"

"I theorize that the potion only affects specific targets," Snape answered.

"But how can a potion do that?" Garret asked.

"Take the Polyjuice Potion, for example," Malfoy started. "It requires another person's DNA for the potion to work properly. Professor Snape and I believe that the perpetrator was singling out the victims by using their DNA in the poison."

"This is all just a theory, then?" the minister asked. Malfoy noddd.

"When analyzing some blood samples from St. Mungo's, I was unable to confirm the use of the subject's DNA in the potion – which only makes sense, since the sample was biological in nature. In fact, to an untrained eye, everything looked normal – nothing out of the ordinary for a witch or wizard taking certain common medications."

"Meaning, whoever made this poison knows what they're doing, if it goes by undetected," Kingsley surmised with a sour frown.

"There's also the possibility that they were poisoned long before arriving to the parties," Malfoy added. "Or, the food at the party was the catalyst which set the poison in motion."

"That opens this to a much wider investigation – much too large for you to handle alone, Mister Potter," Garret said, training her level gaze at Harry, who was about ready to burst from his seat in anticipation. He blushed, embarrassed, and settled back into his chair.

"But how long will that take?" Kingsley asked. "Weeks? Months? We cannot continue waiting for this mystery wizard to strike – especially since we now know that he or she is modifying the potion in the meantime. If we allow them to continue, who knows what will happen next? Maybe someone will die, or perhaps it'll be larger in scale."

"If I might suggest?" Snape interjected. "We move first. Have a staged party where all the variables can be controlled – who comes in, what food is prepared, and trained aurors at the ready."

"That could work," Garret agreed hesitantly. "But won't they think we're up to something if a bunch of aurors get together for a fake party?"

"It's clear that whoever this is, they are targeting 'reformed' Death Eaters. Despite the personal risk, I'd be willing to organize a party at the Malfoy Manor – what better way to antagonize someone than supporting House Elf rights or some such nonsense in what used to be the Dark Lord's base of operations?" Malfoy suggested.

"That still seems pretty staged to me," Harry said, but without malice. Despite Malfoy's smug way of making it all about him, he recognized that it was a good idea. Better than hunting down answers that would never come.

"That's where _we_ come in," Malfoy answered, giving Harry a significant look. "_The Daily Prophet _is already running circles around our relationship, we just have to go out there, give an interview or two, and feed the fire. We make it seem organic: you can say something about how you're spearheading some great cause, and I'll say something about how I've wanted to atone for my family's sins, simple as that. Then no one would be batting an eye if you and a couple of your friends – who just happen to be aurors – are there."

From the nodding and murmurs of agreement going around the room, Harry knew he was fucked. He'd have to be best friends with Malfoy and worse, he'd have to pretend to like it.

Great.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks for all your patience! I hope you like this chapter! Thanks for reading!**

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><p>Harry was spending more time with Malfoy (or "Draco" now that he had to keep up appearances) out in public, usually in the company of Teddy and Lyra – Ministry's orders. He never thought he'd see the day that the Minister himself would order Harry to become friends with a former Death Eater, but there wasn't much that he could do. Once Harry announced his campaign, they needed to make Malfoy's support seem natural. In addition to this, he had to arrange meetings with activists, talk with experts, and show an overall interest in magical creature's rights. All in the name of the plan.<p>

Although he was loathe to admit it, the idea of working to develop a campaign for magical creatures' rights with the former Slytherin was _just slightly_ the better option to talking to Ginny. In fact, he took to avoiding Ginny as much as he could – to the point that he rearranged his entire schedule so that he could leave before she got up for training and arrive back home and go to sleep before she did. Sometimes he'd just spend the night in Grimmauld Place. When she did manage to catch him, he would avoid the topic. Then, he'd find a bunch of excuses – minuscule errands to run, people to see, places to visit. All in the name of avoiding the inevitable: having to discuss his sudden "interest" in Malfoy with Ginny. Was it sad and desperate? Extremely. But he wasn't in the mood for waking up to banshee screaming.

Today was the day that he and Malfoy were supposed to have a "friendly" dinner together in order to promote the idea that they were working together to the public. Just as he was about to leave his office for the day, a knock sounded on his door. It'd probably be Malfoy, no doubt ready to spew some more commands on how they should act during their "date." That's what _The Daily Prophet_, among other newspapers, took to calling their frequent outings. Their plan was on a need-to-know basis, and as far as the Ministry was concerned, the only people who needed to know were the other members of the Auror department. And now that Ron had retired, Harry couldn't even confide in his best friend.

Which had made for many, _many_ awkward conversations between himself and the Weasleys, who obviously didn't believe the drivel that Skeeter was publishing, but who were nonetheless concerned about the company he was keeping. They had long ago accepted Andromeda's choice of babysitter (albeit begrudgingly), but it wasn't as if they were rushing to invite him to the Burrow, either.

The knock sounded again, breaking Harry from his thoughts as he rose, prepared to open the door, when all of a sudden it burst open, admitting an angry red head. Ginny marched into the middle of his office, slamming the door behind her, and angrily tossing a package onto his desk. "What's this?" Ginny demanded in a shriek. Harry, confused at her outburst, just stared at her.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Quidditch practice?" he asked her. "What are you doing here?"

"There's a _winky face_, Harry. A _bloody winky face_. What's that supposed to mean?" she yelled, her face turning almost as red as her hair in anger. He warily glanced at the package. There was an attached card, reading:

_You should wear this tonight for our date ;)_

_-D.M._

He blanched, and swore. Although it was only his initials, it was clear that Malfoy had sent…well, whatever this was.

"Look, Ginny. We're only partners. That's it," Harry said, trying to placate his girlfriend.

"Then why the note? Look, I know Skeeter has a penchant for lying, but what if…"

"You can't honestly believe the _Prophet_, Gin! I swear, if I could avoid him, I would. But I can't. We have to work together on a project."

"Then why act all buddy-buddy? We haven't gone out on a date in weeks, Harry! And here you are, plastered all over every newspaper in the country, going out with that…Death Eater's daughter," she spat out. Harry staggered, almost as if slapped. Ginny realized she said something wrong, and quickly apologized, the anger dissipating from her.

"I'll just open it and see what the big deal was," Harry said, pulling out his wand and aiming it at the package. "Obviously he sent it to the house knowing that it'd upset you. You know, typical Slytherin move."

"Merlin, just promise me that it isn't something embarrassing," Ginny whispered, covering her face with her hands. What did she expect it to be? Lingerie? Not that he'd put it past Malfoy, who'd probably get a kick out of scandalizing the Weasleys. He could see it now: Molly'd get a heart attack and Malfoy'd break out the celebratory champagne. The idea seemed too ridiculous to even consider. But…

_Oh Merlin, what if it _is_ lingerie_? he thought. It wasn't like he could explain away that one.

The paper ripped apart, revealing a gleaming, emerald dress robe. Harry levitated it out of the package, and it unfurled. It had clearly cost a fortune and the fabric – silk or whatever, Harry was no expert – seemed to glow in the light. It was incredibly soft to the touch and, apropos to Slytherin fashion, was embroidered with fine, silver threads. All it needed was a snake motif, and he would've fit right in with the image of Slytherin's heir that he had sported back in Hogwarts. A little parchment floated down and Harry picked it up.

_I tried to stop him, but at least he didn't give you the kids' choice._

_Andromeda_

And he couldn't help it. It was all just so ridiculous: he imagined Malfoy taking the kids to some sort of stuffy dress store. Given the task to find a dress robe for Harry, Teddy would have gone straight to the ridiculous ones, with large dragons or hippogriffs blazoned on them. Meanwhile, Lyra would have gone to the pink princess robes, choosing the one that'd be the most bedazzled in sequins and glitter.

"See, it's harmless," Harry said, spelling the dress robe back into the package. He took a look at Ginny, who was staring at him with a contemplative look on her face.

"Harry, how much longer are you going to work on this project?" she asked calmly. Harry didn't want to answer, knowing that she wouldn't be pleased. Another couple of weeks? Maybe months? And then, surely he'd be spending time at the Malfoy Manor. Preparing for the mission, of course, but what would Ginny and the others say when they learned he was "willingly" spending time in enemy territory?

Apparently, his facial expression was all Ginny needed and she nodded.

"I think we need to spend some time apart, Harry," she said decisively.

And the world seemed to stop.

"We never see each other anymore. When we do, we argue. And the fact is, if both of us want to continue in our careers, one of us has to compromise," she said. Harry was about to speak up, urge her to reconsider, when Ginny raised her hand and silenced him. "The thing is, I don't think I can – I _should_ – compromise when it's _your_ choice of career that's hurting _me_. I don't think you realize how much your association with Malfoy hurts me. I don't really care if the Minister told you to do it, the fact is, his family tortured our friends, my – _our _family, Harry. Just the thought of you stepping foot in his house…don't you remember what happened to Luna? To Hermione? And then, seeing your faces in _The Daily Prophet_, smiling…It hurts to be around you, because I think about him and everything he's done!" She was ventilating now, fighting back the tears that glistened on her face.

"Look, Ginny, I love you. And just because I have to work with Malfoy doesn't mean that we should break up."

"I love you too, Harry. But it doesn't matter," she replied firmly, "as long as you are associating with him, I can't see you. _Because it hurts, you git_. When you're done with this job or mission, or whatever you want to call it, then we can talk." She shook her head and made her way back to the door. And then, as if making up her mind, she turned back to him and said: "And you, with your bloody Gryffindor conscious, can't simply quit your job, because you have some fucking noble conviction that those fucking Death Eater scum are worth saving."

She walked out, slamming the door behind her.

What really hit the nail on the head here was that she wasn't even screaming anymore. She was being completely earnest. Harry thought it would have hurt less, if she had screamed.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for being patient and awesome! So I posted TWO chapters, like I promised! Now that I've settled in, I think I'll be able to update regularly :)**

**If we get to a total of 65 reviews/follows/favs, then you can expect another update by 1/17/15! Otherwise, I'll update in two weeks, on 1/24. **

**Also, as a reminder, this story is rated M. This means that it has adult themes that aren't suitable for younger readers. However, talking about these themes would spoil the plot - so if you have any concerns about the story, you can always send a PM. **

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><p>Harry had been struck dumb. He just stood and stared at the door of his office, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Ginny had stormed in and broken up with him in one fell swoop. And the hardest thing to accept was that he felt <em>relieved<em>. Not that Ginny had left him, but that he wouldn't have to avoid or lie to her anymore, that he'd have to give another explanation and plead for forgiveness.

He had to admit, Ginny's words hurt like a bitch, and he felt incredibly guilty for feeling so relieved, but it wasn't as if what she had said was untrue. And she was right. She didn't deserve living with that kind of pain, not when she knew he'd be dedicated to the job until it was done. And when it was done, what then? Would everyone fit neatly back into place like before?

Suddenly he didn't feel much like going out today (not that he had wanted to go out with Malfoy in the first place), but he wanted to brood in peace. No doubt Ginny didn't want him returning to their shared apartment anytime soon, so he'd have to see about moving back into Grimmauld Place more permanently…the whole thing was seriously depressing.

The silence in his office was interrupted by his door swinging widely open and a familiar blonde striding in, with a smirk on his face. "I don't know what you said to the she-Weasel, Potter, but it must have been good. I came to congratulate you on your good senses and…" he trailed off as Harry, rather than replying with the familiar bout of screams and protests, just stared ahead at the door. "Are you feeling alright? Did she hex you?"

"A Malfoy? Concerned?" Harry asked incredulously, snapping back to his regular self. Malfoy just shrugged.

"I simply want to make sure that our date tonight is a success. Can't have you puking up slugs in the middle of desert," he responded offhandedly. He then gestured to the package, "I urge you to get dressed now. I won't have you rushing in the last minute and looking like a slob."

"I appreciate the concern, Malfoy, but I was planning on wearing my Auror robes."

"Not to _Le Petite Chateau_ you won't," Malfoy sneered, giving him a once over. His face was contorted in revulsion, and Harry didn't know which he found to be more offensive: the clothes, or Harry himself. "I hate the proposition of going anywhere, especially a place so cultured, with somebody like you." At the moment, it sounded like Malfoy would have preferred going to dinner with the slugs rather than Harry. But despite the insults, Harry couldn't help smiling. Despite his pain in the ass tendencies, it almost seemed as if Malfoy was trying to bring back a sense of normalcy to Harry's life.

Harry did what Malfoy asked of him, and he had to wonder how the blonde had managed to pick out a robe that not only fit, but made him look…well, good. It must have had some sort of spell that shortened and elongated the fabric to fit his body, because it was absolutely perfect. And the color looked good on him, the deep green matching the color of his eyes. Malfoy nodded at him appreciatively once Harry met him at the Apparition point outside the Ministry. Of course Malfoy was immaculate: manicured fingernails, hair washed and pulled back, Malfoy sense of superiority in place. His dress robes were a cool blue color which reminded Harry less of Malfoy's eyes and more of Lyra's. The embroidery that lined the bottom of the robes was the same silver as in Harry's robes. To anyone looking (and they'd be right, knowing Malfoy), it'd be as if they had purposefully worn something similar.

Malfoy extended his elbow. Of course the git would want to use Side-Along Apparition. It wasn't as if Harry _knew_ where the restaurant was, but they could have just as easily Apparated to Diagon Alley and walked from there. He supposed Malfoy was too good for walking. Harry hesitantly took hold of Malfoy's arm, and soon found himself in front of the most lavish and expensive restaurant he had ever seen before. There was a corded off entrance with a line of well-dressed wizards and witches extending away from it. He tried to ignore the stares as Malfoy led him right inside.

"Shouldn't we wait in line, Malfoy?" Harry asked. Malfoy just snorted, as if the very mention of waiting was beneath him. _Malfoy must have made reservations_, Harry soon realized as a young witch greeted them, bowing lowly as she said, "Messieurs Malfoy and Potter, right this way." Harry felt a little out of place; being addressed in such a way made him think of Sirius and his father, but he highly doubted that the Marauders would frequent such a place as this.

She let them to the centermost table, which had an elegant phoenix-inspired centerpiece and floating candles. She then bowed again and left. "Everyone's going to be looking at us," Harry said, already feeling the itch of other wizards' eyes on them.

"That's the point, Potter," Malfoy said, tapping his glass with his wand. Harry watched as it filled with champagne. Malfoy did the same with Harry's glass.

"Aren't we supposed to wait for a waiter?" Harry asked, confused.

"Have you seriously never been to a _restaurant_ before?" Malfoy asked, but he didn't sneer or smirk this time. He seemed genuinely amused. Harry blushed and responded, "Well, yes, but we were always served by wizards."

"I realize our definitions of 'restaurant' differ, then," Malfoy said, taking a calm sip. "My tastes must be a little too high class for you and yours," he added. Harry felt as if he should be offended, but he wasn't. If anything, it was amusing. "It operates on House Elf magic. Whatever you wish will appear on your plate, like in Hogwarts," Malfoy explained. Surprised, Harry was about to respond when Malfoy interrupted, "Before you go into a Potter-style rampage, let me assure you that they're being paid an hourly wage and all that. This restaurant is SPEW-approved." He gave a dazzling smile, obviously enjoying Harry's changing reaction, from outrage to surprise.

"Hermione stopped calling it SPEW a long time ago," Harry replied, but again Malfoy shrugged and took the opportunity to tap both his plate and Harry's. A decadent meal appeared – some kind of roast bird with vegetables and potatoes – and Malfoy put great precision in how he arranged his napkin and which utensils he chose. Harry belatedly realized that he was supposed to be mimicking the blonde, and hastily followed his lead. He carefully cut a piece of the bird and put it in his mouth, surprised to find himself liking the taste. Of course it'd seem rude or something to take bigger bites or eat faster, so he had to settle himself into the excruciatingly slow pace of eating his dinner.

"This is quite good," Harry offered awkwardly.

"I know. I wouldn't trust your tastes," Malfoy replied, carefully dabbing some invisible stain on his lips.

"I'm starting to believe that you don't need food to survive. Just an insult here and there, and you're good for another week," Harry replied, watching as Malfoy set aside his silverware, apparently done with his meal.

"You flatter me, Potter," Malfoy replied, flashing an amused smile. "But unless your definition of a date also differs from mine, I think we're supposed to talk while we eat."

"I'll bite," Harry joked, setting his own silverware down. "So what do you want to discuss? I guess we can say anything, as long as we smile occasionally and nod and look like we don't hate each other."

"Funny, Potter. Except there's one problem with your assumption," Malfoy responded.

"What? The tables are under silencing charms. Otherwise, we'd precisely know what that man just said to offend his date into leaving in such a hurry," Harry responded, earning an intrigued look from Malfoy. "I'm an Auror, I read the magical signature and made a deduction." He shrugged and added, "Plus, they're three feet away and I heard nothing but the music."

"You're not at hopeless as I thought," Malfoy responded, making it sound as if Harry had passed some sort of elementary test – like how to breath or eat. "But that's not what I meant. I meant that I don't hate you."

Harry blinked slowly, unsure that he had heard Malfoy clearly.

"You look confused, Potter. And here I thought your mental faculties had improved."

"Your insults make your case quite clearly," Harry retorted sarcastically, but without malice. "I see old Slytherin habits die hard."

"I get a kick out of teasing you, Harry," Malfoy stated, causing a nervous prickle to run up and down Harry's arm at the mention of his first name. "If any of my previous romances had been half as fun as you, maybe they would have lasted longer than they did."

"What are you getting at?"

"Have you ever heard the one about the bully?"

"What, you have a crush on me, is that it?"

"More like a healthy interest," Malfoy responded noncommittally. "The way I figure it, a mutual interest."

"I don't find insulting people or manicuring my nails particularly attractive," Harry retorted, earning him an earnest laugh from the other man.

"I mean in Teddy and Lyra."

"You mean in my family."

"The warning is unnecessary, Potter," Malfoy scoffed. "They're as much my family as yours. In all probability, they will be in line for inheriting _both_ the Black and Malfoy family vaults."

"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked, shocked. Although it was a bit presumptuous of Malfoy to assume that Teddy and Lyra would inherit the Black vault, he wasn't wrong. Harry had been considering leaving them an allowance, and even Grimmauld Place. But the Malfoy vaults? Were his fears about the Malfoys correct? Were they somehow connected with Lyra and her parents? Was there some deal or agreement in place between them?

"Only that it's unlikely that I will produce an heir," Malfoy responded simply. "So in the unlikely event of an untimely death, Teddy and Lyra would receive my inheritance."

What was Malfoy getting at? Why was he sharing this with him? To make him feel better about his intentions towards Teddy and Lyra? _I suppose it makes sense. If he can't produce an heir, and Teddy and Lyra are next in line, then of course he'd want to get to know them, become a part in their life. At least, that's what I would do. But I can't exactly trust a Slytherin to have pure motives, now can I?_

"You can't have children?" Harry asked, attempting to clarify.

"It's more like women don't have the right parts," Malfoy stated with a sly smile, watching as Harry's face contorted with shock.

_W-what? Malfoy's gay? So when I asked if he had a crush on me…no way, he was just joking. He knows I'd be uncomfortable with it, and that's how he wants me to react._

"The readers of _Witch Weekly_ will be disappointed to hear," Harry responded easily. Malfoy's smile only grew wider.

"Glad to hear that you saw their 'Sexiest Potions Master in Wizarding London!' article," Malfoy responded, amused as an embarrassed blush colored Potter's face. "Didn't know you were a connoisseur of the male body, or I would have driven you away from the she-Weasel earlier."

The mention of Ginny immediately dampened Harry's mood. Obviously Malfoy had expected him to get all flustered or embarrassed. Not having received the reaction he was expecting, Malfoy leaned forward, reaching a hand across the table, leaving his palm facing upwards.

"You should take my hand."

"What?" Harry asked, confused. Was Malfoy trying to…comfort him?

"Give _Witch Weekly _something to write about," Malfoy explained, but his eyes read sympathy. And it seemed genuine, as far as Harry could tell.

He took Draco's hand.


End file.
